


It’s a Bad Idea, Me and You— Let’s Just Keep Kissing ‘Til We Come Through

by orphan_account



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Doctor AU, Drunk Calling, Drunk Sex, Infidelity, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Penetration, Phone Sex, Richie’s a gynecologist because of course he is, Trans Eddie Kaspbrak, Trans Male Character, Use Of Deadname, Vomit Mention, awkward sex toy buying, ftm eddie kaspbrak, sort of a coffee shop au? i mean there’s a scene within a coffee shop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24609157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Eddie hated doctors offices, and he hates doctor’s offices’ waiting rooms even more.It doesn’t help that his first visit to the doctor on his own without his mother was to the fucking gynecologist.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier/female side character
Comments: 14
Kudos: 132





	1. It only takes a taste (when you know it’s good)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y’all enjoy! The title is from ‘Bad Idea’ from the musical Waitress.

Eddie  _ hated  _ doctors offices, and he hates doctor’s offices’ waiting rooms even more. 

It doesn’t help that his first visit to the doctor on his own without his mother was to the fucking  _ gynecologist.  _

He’s been on testosterone for about six months now— the lady at Planned Parenthood had suggested he went to the OB/GYN at around this point to make sure everything was running smoothly. And things had been going fine for Eddie, to an extent— sure, he was getting stupidly hairy and went through deodorant at an ungodly speed, not to mention the goddamn constant  _ horniness,  _ but on the whole he was doing okay. That was his definition of ‘running smoothly’, at least. 

However, just being in the waiting room of the office makes him want to vomit. 

It smells like his childhood, even though it was hundreds of miles away from Derry— sterile, clean, chemical. It smells like his mother shrieking at doctors and cherry lollipops and needles and tears. 

He pushes down the bile in the back of his throat, crossing his legs and pressing a hand to his mouth. 

_ Fuck.  _

He knows they’ll call out his deadname; he hadn’t gone by that name in almost a year, but it wasn’t like they’d know any better. It’s wrong to be mad at them for it, but anger still sits in the pit of his stomach like food that refused to be digested. 

“Angela?”

He stands, pushing down the next wave of bile and following the nurse. 

His vitals are taken. He’d gained a few pounds, he knew, but he tries not to think about it too much as the blood pressure machine squeezes around his bicep, choosing to focus on that instead. 

“Your blood pressure’s a bit high for someone your age, ma’am,” the nurse comments, “are you doing alright?” 

“I’m fine. Just stressed,” he gives her a tight lipped smile, “by the way, it’s sir. I’m a transgender man.”

She smiles politely at him in response, nodding her head. 

_ Hell yeah. Life: 0. Eddie: 1.  _

That was always the hardest part, he’d found— not the dramatic, tearful coming outs, but the casual ones like that. At the doctor’s office, the supermarket, the pharmacy, the little ones that the other person would quickly forget about, those were the ones that shot his nerves through the roof. 

“Dr. Tozier will be in to see you in a minute,” she gives him one last smile, leaving him in the chair. 

The feeling of dread is back, pressing into his chest as he picks at the hem of the medical gown. Eddie finds himself looking for the nearest trash can if he actually  _ did  _ hurl, which he really doesn’t want to do but it wasn’t totally out of the question. The smell of antibacterial cleaner digs itself into his nose, sharp and horrible as ever.

There’s a little drawing pinned to the wall in the corner of the room— a crude stick figure family, with a blonde woman, a man with glasses and dark curls, and a very small figure in between them.  _ I <3 Daddy  _ written in red crayon, the heart sloppily drawn. 

_ Cute,  _ Eddie thinks to himself,  _ didn’t know my doctor was going to be a man.  _

The door opens, snapping Eddie out of it. 

“Mr. Kaspbrak?” the man smiles, sticking his hand out to Eddie. It becomes clear that he was, in fact, the man in the drawing; thickly framed glasses, soft dark curls, a kind smile that showed itself in the lines around his eyes, flecks of gray in his sideburns. 

“Call me Eddie,” the younger man replies, shaking his hand cautiously. Fuck, he was  _ handsome.  _

“Doctor Richard Tozier,” he tips a nonexistent hat, winking for effect. He faintly reminds Eddie of the kind of character you’d see in a cartoon, charming and silly. “It’s an honor to meet you, Eddie.”

Eddie feels himself flush, Dr. Tozier guiding his legs to the stirrups of the chair. “What brings you in today?” 

“Well, I started my transition about a few months ago. I’ve been on testosterone for about six months now,” Eddie explains, watching Dr. Tozier snap on some latex gloves. “The folks at planned parenthood suggested I get a check up at around this point.”

“Well, congratulations for starting your transition,” he gives him another grin, “any pain, discomfort? Itching or burning?” 

“No,” Eddie shakes his head quickly. 

“Good, good. Have you been practicing safe sex?”

“Well…” Eddie finds himself hesitating, “I don’t really… do that. There aren’t a lot of gay guys who are really interested in having sex with trans men. Also, you know, I’m not really comfortable with… this,” he gestured vaguely. 

“Okay, okay,” Dr. Tozier murmurs, seemingly to himself.  _ He likes to repeat things, doesn’t he?  _ “I’m assuming that means you haven’t had any STDs lately? Any history of UTIs?”

“No, I’m totally clean.”

“Well, alright then. I’m gonna take a quick look,” Eddie watches as he poured lubricant onto his fingers,  _ fuck he has big hands, they must feel so nice inside of— _

He can’t help the soft gasp that comes from him as the fingers slide into him, warm and wet. “It’s a bit strange, I know. I imagine this isn’t your first time coming to a gynecologist though?” 

“No, sir,” Eddie chuckles breathlessly, “I just, you know. I don’t really—“

“I understand. I’m not here to judge you, sweetheart,” Dr. Tozier smiles up at him before popping underneath his gown. And  _ fuck,  _ Eddie’s blushing like a goddamn high schooler, feeling more vulnerable and uncomfortable and overheated than he had in months. 

_ Sweetheart.  _

“Any libido problems? Have you seen an increase or a decrease?”

Eddie lets himself laugh, relaxing back into the chair. “Definitely an increase,” he says, “You know, with the hormones and everything.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Dr. Tozier sounds understanding enough, even if Eddie can’t see his face. “You mentioned you don’t really finger yourself often— do you masturbate at all?” 

Eddie feels himself grow hotter. He’s acting like a child and he knows it, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands. “Not really,” he replies, “um, I’m not really comfortable enough with my body to do that. I don’t like… I don’t like seeing myself like that.” 

A pair of dark brown eyes pop up from in between Eddie’s legs, looking concerned. “I’m sorry, sweet boy,” Dr. Tozier coos, his free hand resting on the inside of his thigh. Eddie feels a shiver shoot up his spine at the contact; it had been  _ ages  _ since he had been physical with someone, and he was starting to feel it. 

_ Are you getting horny for your fucking Gyno? Jesus Christ, just download Grindr,  _ Eddie thinks to himself. 

Dr. Tozier pokes and prods for a few more minutes, Eddie still feeling slightly queasy but very, very hot. 

“Well, the good news is that you’re definitely looking healthy,” Dr Tozier’s mop of curls appear over the hem of his gown again, “You clearly have good hygiene, honey.”

Eddie feels like he was going to fucking  _ die  _ if he got called one more pet name. 

“Thanks, I’m pretty intense about that kinda stuff,” Eddie replies. His whole body feels warm, Dr. Tozier’s fingers felt hot where they pressed against his insides. He feels the doctor spread his folds, his mind reeling at a million miles an hour… 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, sugar,” the curls pop up further, “but I, uh… you clearly take very good care of your vagina. It’s very nice.”

There’s a pause. And Eddie knows his cheeks were almost definitely flaming red. 

“Are you okay if I call it that? If you want me to-“

“Yes, that’s fine. Call it what it is, right?” Eddie laughs nervously, shivering as Dr. Tozier’s fingers held his folds open. “And, um, thank you.”

Dr. Tozier seems to huff out a laugh from his nose, the pads of his gloved fingers dragging down Eddie’s slick cunt. Eddie takes in a sharp inhale involuntarily,  _ I can’t believe this is turning me on so much fuck Dr. Tozier take the gloves off please— _

“Well, it looks like you’re on the right track,” the doctor pats the inside of his thigh, “however, masturbation is very healthy, and for someone going through changes like you are I would definitely suggest looking into it. I have some pamphlets here if you’d like to take a look…” he stands, wandering over to the clear display case on the wall and plucking one out. 

“I, um. I know how to  _ do  _ it, I’m just not… comfortable with seeing myself like that, you know? I don’t enjoy being… touched like that.”

Dr. Tozier raises an eyebrow at him, “well, could have fooled me. You did great when I was working on you, sweetheart.” 

_ His face is so kind. Not just his eyes,  _ Eddie notices,

propping himself up on his hands. There are wrinkles around his mouth too— smile lines, like the ones he’d noticed around his eyes, his teeth white and perfect. 

“I just think with all your arousal choosing not to masturbate might not be the healthiest choice,” he continues, “you’re quite literally injecting your body with hormones, I don’t think you should deny your body of an orgasm.”

“It’s not that I’m denying myself, I just…” he drops his head into his hands, “fuck.”

A large, warm hand drops itself onto his back, rubbing in small circles. And Eddie feels comforted by it, knowing it was Dr. Tozier’s, until static electricity interrupts the moment. 

“Shit!” Dr. Tozier yanks his hand away, “Jeez, sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Eddie smiles softly, leaning back in the chair. 

“Sparks fly, I guess?” the doctor chuckles, looking away as he smiled. 

_ Holy shit, is he flirting with me?  _

“I don’t think I need to write you any prescriptions, but I’d definitely recommend going to therapy. My friend Beverly is a psychiatrist who helps lots of transgender people with dysphoria and such. She’s also a transgender woman, if that makes you feel any better,” he says as he removes Eddie’s legs from the stirrups, helping him sit upright. 

“Yeah, that— that would be great,” he stands, collecting his clothes from the chair. “Do you mind if I change in here? I have something under this, so…” 

Dr. Tozier waves his hand, sitting down at his computer and beginning to type. Eddie slides his boxers and jeans on from under the gown, then sliding it off and pulling his sweater on over it. “Here’s Bev’s number. I’d seriously recommend just giving her a call,” Dr. Tozier’s looking at him again, holding out a business card with chicken scratch numbers written on it. 

“Why’d you write two numbers?” Eddie asks, examining the business card. 

“The one that’s printed is her number. The one I wrote down is mine,” he replies shyly, avoiding eye contact. 

_ Oh, fuck.  _

“That’s- that’s really sweet of you,” Eddie can’t help but smile, eyeing Dr. Tozier. 

“Just in case you need to talk about your transition, or anything at all,” he explains, “I’m here for you.”

There’s a pause, their eyes finally meeting. 

“I- thank you,” Eddie repeats, holding his hand out. “I’ll give you a call.”

“Anytime,” Dr. Tozier shakes his outstretched hand, “and by the way?”

“Mhm?”

“You can call me Richie.”

___

The business card had sat on Eddie’s desk for a week now, almost taunting him. 

He’d used it once for its actual purpose; Dr. Tozier—  _ no, Richie—  _ had been right about Beverly Marsh. She was funny, energetic and kind, and had let Eddie rant about all his problems. She’d listened to him talk about his mother, his transition, moving to New York, his issue with masturbation, and actually had useful insight, unlike the ‘therapists’ he’d been to as a child. 

He hadn’t told her about Richie, though. 

He’d downloaded Grindr, in true gay fashion, after the gynecologist incident and after Bev had recommended it. 

_ “See if you can get a third, well, second party involved in your pleasure,”  _ she had told him,  _ “download a hookup app, get a friend with benefits, try a sex hotline. Try to not make your pleasure about yourself.” _

That was smart, he supposed, if he wasn’t the  _ only  _ person involved. He wouldn’t have to think about himself, just the other person. 

Bev had also suggested he visit a sex shop and buy himself some toys, which he had done hesitantly and with a lot of grimacing at the prices. In the end he’d settled on a pretty simple vibrator and a reasonably sized flesh-toned dildo— the idea of putting something bright pink or neon green in his body made him cringe— and had quickly left the shop. 

They seem to be mocking him as well, along with Richie’s number. 

_ What if…  _

Eddie remembers the crude drawing tacked onto the wall of Richie’s office, shame creeping up his spine. 

_ Fucking homewrecker.  _

He thinks of the blonde woman, whom he assumed could only be Richie’s wife. It would be silly to assume he was single— come on, a stupidly attractive, successful 40 year old man who specializes in  _ vaginas?  _ Every straight woman on the upper east side probably wanted him. 

He’s in his pajamas, a cute set of a blue silk button up and matching shorts, a parting gift from one of his friends back in Derry.  _ This is the kinda stuff gay men take mirror selfies in and post on their instagrams, right? This is totally normal. Who cares if it’s a girly thing? Damnit, they’re fucking pj’s. They’re comfy.  _

The toys are in a plastic bag sitting by the door.  _ If dicks had eyes, the one in that bag would be staring right at me.  _

He stands, taking them out of the bag. The dildo’s pretty decent in size, big enough to stretch but small enough not to hurt. 

_ Pretend like it’s someone else’s dick. You’re giving them pleasure, right?  _

_ Yeah. But who?  _

He looks back over at the business card. 

_ You downloaded Grindr specifically so you wouldn’t be horny for your Gyno, creep.  _

One hand creeps to his cellphone, the other picking up the business card. 

_ Are you still not over him? Newsflash, asshole! He’s married!  _

His fingers type the number into his phone. 

_ Stupid stupid stupid stupid— _

“Hello?”

“Hey, Richie,” Eddie smiles, “it’s me, Eddie. You gave me your number last week, remember?” 

_ Dumbass. There’s no coming back from this.  _

“Eddie! Of course!” Richie sounds genuinely happy to see him, Eddie’s heart doing flips in his chest. “How have you been? I’ve been waiting to hear from you!”

“I’ve been great, thanks. Sorry for not calling, things have been hectic, y’know?”

“Oh, that’s okay. It’s been pretty crazy for me too. My wife’s asleep, this feels like the first time I’ve been alone in weeks.”

_ His wife’s asleep.  _

Eddie rubs his thighs together, suddenly thankful his shorts were silk. 

“I just… wanted to see how you were doing,” he lies, his thumb hooking into the waistband of his shorts. “I started seeing Bev. You were right, she’s great.”

“I told you! She’s amazing, isn’t she? She’s so smart, you know. She helped me realize my attraction to men is totally normal.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. 

“...Cool. Yeah, yeah, cool. She’s great, I told her about my whole, you know.”

_ He likes men he likes men he likes men he likes— _

“Mhm. How are you doing with masturbation? I understand that’s probably still difficult for you.” 

A surprised laugh leaves Eddie’s lips. Richie probably doesn’t see it as an inherently sexual thing; this is his job, after all, he’s just helping a patient off the clock. 

“It’s gotten a little easier,” Eddie lies again, this time

sliding his shorts down his thighs. “I haven’t really… tried yet, but she’s given me some tips on how to get through it without wanting to die.”

Richie chuckles, his voice low and deep and  _ fuck  _ it made Eddie’s tummy feel warm with arousal. “Good, good. Care to share? You don’t have to, obviously.”

Eddie’s turning pink again, he knows it. He kicks his shorts off the edge of the bed, his hand popping the top few buttons of his top. 

“Oh! Um, basically she was like, pretend it’s not about  _ you.  _ Like you’re giving someone else pleasure, and the sexual stimulation isn’t coming from you. It’s pretty smart,” he explains, “I’m an empath, so like… yeah.”

Richie chuckles as Eddie opens the bottle of lube, pouring some over his fingers. “Tell me about your day,” Eddie prompts, his index finger tentatively running up one of his folds. 

“Hah, it was pretty understimulating. Didn’t have a lot of clients today,” Richie starts, “Worked out a bit, spent some time with my daughter.” 

_ Don’t talk about your kid, damnit!  _

Without thinking Eddie slips his middle finger into his cunt, biting his tongue to stop a moan from coming out. “Wh- what kind of exercises do you do when you work out?” he asks, pushing his finger deeper. 

“Well, I tend to just do the usual. You know, push ups, crunches, I focus a lot on my abs and my arms,” he says nonchalantly and  _ fuck  _ the image of him dripping in sweat, face red and ropes of muscles tensing as he held himself up—

Eddie slips a second finger in, the heat in his stomach getting stronger. He bites his lip again; he’d forgotten he was  _ loud  _ when he’d got off, it had been so long. “Oh,” he sighs, “tell me more.”

“Are… are you okay?” Richie sounds concerned. 

_ Shit. Shitshitshitshit.  _

“I’m fine, just a little under the weather. Damn allergies.”

“Aw, I’m sorry honey. My little one suffers from allergies too around this time of year.” 

Eddie can’t hold back the gasp from his lips as his fingers hit a particularly nice spot, his eyes rolling back in his head. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I- I’m fine,” Eddie sighs, his last rational thought leaving his brain at the smooth tenor of Richie’s voice. “Fuck-“

“Do you need help? Maybe you have a fever,” Richie suggests, “Everyone’s asleep, I could come over-“

“No! I mean, no, that’s okay,” Eddie laughs breathily, cradling the phone between his shoulder and his ear, his now free hand moving to rub slow circles on his cock. 

“Eddie?”

“Uh- mhm?”

“I’ve been a gynecologist for twelve years. I know you’re masturbating.”

It takes all of Eddie’s willpower to not yank the phone from his shoulder and throw it at the wall. 

“Uh, what? No I'm not,” he giggles nervously, his back slick with sweat and sliding uncomfortably against his sheets. “Why would I do that? I don’t even-“

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re not the first,” Richie’s voice is calm, not a hint of disgust or anger. It almost made Eddie feel  _ worse  _ about the whole situation. 

“I, um,” he giggles again, “I, like literally have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Richie sighes, and Eddie can faintly see him pinching the bridge of his nose in his mind. 

“Is this that thing Bev told you about? About getting a second party involved in your pleasure?” 

_ Oh, fuck.  _

“I should go,” Eddie rushes out, his fingers still buried deep inside himself. “I need to-“

“Hey, no, wait,” Richie still sounds worried, Eddie’s stomach dropping even further. “I… what would you do? If I were there with you?”

Eddie’s cheeks burn at the question, eyes blown wide with surprise and lust. “I, um, what?”

“Tell me what you’d want me to do if I were there, sweetheart.”

Eddie’s fingers speed up against his cock, a soft whimper leaving his mouth. “Dr. Tozier, you have a wife, I should just hang up…” 

“It’s just helping a patient off the clock, sweet boy,” his voice is dripping with honey, smooth and warm against Eddie’s ears. “Tell me, sugar, what would you let me do?” 

“I-“ Eddie‘s breath hitches as his fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot. “I’d want you to… finger me. Your fingers felt- felt so nice inside of me…” 

He faintly hears fabric rustling on the other end. “Yeah? Would you let me eat you out?” 

“Would you want to do that?”

The sound of a belt unbuckling. Holy  _ shit.  _

“I’m a pussy doctor. I’d take great pleasure in it,” Richie chuckled. 

Eddie’s going to fucking die. 

“I- I bet you’d make me feel so good,” he whimpers, “Your fingers are- s-so nice, I…” 

More shuffling, a soft groan from Richie’s end of the call. “You’d be so tight, wouldn’t you?” 

“Fuck- are you ma- jerking off too?” Eddie sounds pathetic and winded, but can’t particularly bring himself to care. 

“Yeah,  _ shit,”  _ Richie grunts, “I… I don’t normally want to be sexually active with my patients, but with you… you’re enchanting, my love.”

Eddie’s head lulls back against his pillow, fingers fucking in and out of himself frantically. “Yeah? Did you wanna- wanna fuck me?”

“Yeah, I just… your pussy looked so tight, so delicious, I just wanted to eat you out, solve your little problem…” another moan, low and deep in a way that made Eddie want to swoon. 

“I’d let you- let you do that to me,” he gasps, one leg bent and up in the air. “I want you to do that—“

Richie’s moans are a symphony in his ears, a wet slapping sound coming from his end of the phone. “I- I would have called sooner if I had known you- oh!” Eddie cuts himself off as his fingers brushed against his sweet spot, the heat in his stomach growing stronger. 

“I’ve been thinking about you all week,” the confession is whispered, warped by the microphone. Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the words, even as they’re quickly drowned out by Richie’s gentle grunts, loud and rough. 

“Fuck…” 

That’s all Eddie manages before the heat in his stomach explodes, a loud moan ripping from his throat as his body lights up like a livewire. He faintly registered Richie’s groans as pleasure hit him in waves, fingers finally slowing. “Oh, oh my god.”

“Did you just-“

“Yeah, I… Jesus.”

The slick sounds are still consistent on Richie’s end, but his groans are getting more and more frantic. “Are you close already?”

“You have no idea what your fucking voice does to me,” he replies, “And hearing you cum like that-  _ shit!”  _

Eddie can’t help his gasp as Richie lets out one last groan, his breaths hot and heavy into the receiver. 

A few beats of silence. 

“Oh my god, Dr. Tozier I am  _ so  _ sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Richie’s laugh is

breathless, panting deep into the phone. “That was… amazing.”

“Your wife…” Eddie trails off, standing and collecting his shorts from the edge of the bed. 

“What she doesn’t know won’t kill her,” he replies, similar shuffling sounds coming from his end. 

“I just- you were comfortable with that, right? I hope you don’t feel like there was any pressure in that,” Eddie cradles the phone to his ear, pulling his shorts back on. He buttons up his pajama top, refusing to look at his chest— the  _ last  _ thing he wants right now is to think about his body. 

“I mean… I wasn’t just making all of that up,” Richie says bashfully. “I really do think you’re a peach, darling.”

Eddie feels himself blush again.  _ Damn this man and his stupid way of making me blush like a fool.  _

“Thank you,” his voice is soft as he walked to the bathroom, running cool water over his hands and lathering them up with soap. 

“Make sure you pee within the next 15 minutes to prevent UTIs, by the way,” Richie adds, Eddie giggling at his antics. 

“Thanks, doc.” 

Silence on both ends for a few moments as Eddie walks back to his bedroom, curling up under his sheets. “You ought to go to sleep,” he whispers, laying on his back. 

“I oughta. Hey, Eddie…”

Just hearing him say his name makes his heart do flips. 

“Yeah?” 

“We should… meet up for coffee sometime. Or, y’know, talk on the phone again,” Richie sounds almost shy, and Eddie can faintly picture him blushing, phone pressed to his cheek. 

“I’d really like that,” he pulls the duvet up to his chest, crossing his legs and leaning against the headboard. “Thank you for… that.”

“Oh, shit, right,” Richie seems to remember Eddie’s issue, “congrats? I think that’s what I’m trying to say? I mean, good on you for going out of your comfort zone.”

Eddie giggles into the phone. “Thank you, Richie. Thank you for everything.”

“You’re welcome.”

Silence. 

“Go to bed, doc. You’ve got a big day tomorrow probably.”

“Not big, but definitely busy,” Richie chuckles, “goodnight, darling.”

“Goodnight, Richie.”

Eddie presses the  _ end call  _ button, his heart feeling like it was about to explode. He falls asleep with a smile on his face that night, feeling warm and content. 

___

Richie wants to fucking die. 

He isn’t sure what kind of doctor he is, allowing a patient to masturbate on a call with him and even worse  _ participating—  _ he feels sickened by his own actions, pondering them as he works on his current client. 

His day had been pretty uneventful, clients few and far between. Normally he’d enjoy that, taking the time to read or play a game on his phone, but instead it just left him with more time to think about what a moron he was for letting a patient get under his skin like that. 

Eddie Kaspbrak was perfect in every sense of the word. Richie had never believed in soulmates— hell, he’d never even believed in true love— but meeting Eddie had felt like a train had been rammed directly

into his gut, leaving a hole that only Eddie could replace. 

He’s being ridiculous and he knows it. He doesn’t know how old he was, where he was from, if he was in school, what he liked and disliked, what his favorite food and favorite season and deepest fears are— he’d given him a pelvic exam and had phone sex with him, and that was it. He’d be over this in a week; it was just a fling. Sleeping with clients was unprofessional anyways. 

Still, his fingers itch to call him or text him, his name in his phone saved under ‘little one’. 

“Alright, I'll send a prescription down for some antibiotics to the pharmacy,” he makes a note on his computer, “the front desk will handle your payment.”

He shakes hands with the woman, offering her a tight smile as she left the room. 

He hasn’t been himself, and people have noticed. Stan, one of the nurses, had commented that he’d been less annoying this week and more sulky, to which Richie replied “Maybe so, but it seems the stick lodged so far up your ass hasn’t moved a centimeter.”

A sick burn in his opinion, but he couldn’t really relish in it. 

_ I should call him. I should check up on him, make sure he’s—  _

He glances at the drawing Liz had done on her first day of kindergarten, tacked up on the wall. There she was, tiny and brunette, and though her face was simply a crude smiley face Richie knows it’s angelic, rosy cheeks and sparkling blue eyes. 

He loves Elizabeth Tozier more than anything else in his life. His dad had been right— being a parent was the best thing that would ever happen to him, and he’d known it from the first moment he’d held her tiny, squirming body in his arms. He was overcome with pride for her; in his eyes she could do no wrong, which he knew wasn’t exactly true but fuck it, she’s his daughter. 

He can’t do that to her. If Samantha found out… 

His phone dings. 

**_Little one:_ ** _ hey, are you available for coffee this afternoon?  _

**_Little one:_ ** _ i’m off work at 3:30.  _

He drops his head into his hands and groans. 

_ It would just be rude to decline at this point,  _ he thinks to himself as he types out a response. 

**_Richie:_ ** _ Yes, I get off at 4. Meet at Birch Coffee at quarter past?  _

**_Little one:_ ** _ sounds good :)  _

_ He even texts cute.  _

The day seems to inch by slower and slower, clients still few.  _ You can still cancel this thing, quit while you’re ahead, right?  _

_ But I don’t want to quit.  _

4 pm comes around, and Richie had never been more eager to change out of his scrubs. He examines himself in the bathroom mirror as he buttons his shirt—  _ I should get that haircut Sam keeps nagging me about,  _ he thinks to himself, brushing his hand through his curls and shrugging his blazer on. 

**_Richie:_ ** _ On my way now. See you in 15.  _

**_Eddie:_ ** _ awesome <3 _

Even the train ride seems to go on for ages, Richie sandwiched in between varying people for 10 minutes as he gets increasingly more uncomfortable. 

It’s August in New York, and millions of tourists had come to the big apple to do some sightseeing and shopping before summer ended, but Birch is pretty unoccupied, soft music playing from the speakers. 

And lo and behold, in one of the corners of the shop sits Eddie, wearing a cute orange sweater and cream scarf with a matching beanie, nursing a coffee cup. 

Richie’s heart feels like it could explode at the sight of him. 

“Hey,” he grins, pulling out the chair across from him. “Long time no see, huh?” 

Eddie’s eyes light up at him as he set his coffee down, smiling widely—  _ fuck, he has dimples. That should not be as cute as it is.  _

“Hi, Richie,” he giggles, resting his chin on his hand. “In person, at least. You look nice.” 

Richie laughs, feeling mildly uncomfortable at how dressed up he was compared to his date; a button up and blazer over dress pants and nice shoes, which shouldn’t have made him feel stupid but he felt like a nerd next to Eddie who looks like he’d stepped off a style blog and  _ shit  _ no one should be that adorable—

“Huh? Oh, thanks,” he realizes he hadn’t responded. Eddie offers him another sweet smile, wrapping his hands around his drink and taking another sip. “What did you order?”

“Mocha with extra whip,” he explains, “I've never really liked plain coffee. Too bitter, y’know?” 

He nods, even though he didn’t know. He adores black coffee— it practically replaces his bloodstream. 

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been alright,” Eddie’s fingers tap against the table, “you?”

“Oh, same old,” Richie shakes his head, “working, spending time with my family.”

“What’s your family like? You have a daughter, right?”

“Yep,” Richie pulls his phone out and opens the camera roll app, finding one of his favorite pictures; he and Liz at Disney World when they had gone for spring break, her sitting on his broad shoulders in front of Cinderella’s castle with her arms in the air. “Here she is from a few months ago.”

Eddie coos at the screen as he looks at the picture, a fingertip tracing over the toddler’s face. “She looks just like you,” he grins. 

Richie’s stomach swoops at that comment. 

“And here’s my wife,” he zooms the picture back out to show Sam, her arm looped around his waist as they smiled at the camera. 

“She’s gorgeous,” It sounds genuine from Eddie before he pushes the phone away from himself, back into Richie’s hands. “You’ve got a lovely family, Richie.”

“What about you? A girlfriend, or a boyfriend…?”

“Hm? Oh, no,” Eddie giggles into his drink, “I’m single right now. Being single in New York sucks, though.”

“You seem more talkative than you were at your appointment,” Richie ignores the comment, instead opting to tuck his phone back into his pocket. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Doctor’s offices kind of freak me out,” Eddie looks apologetic, “I’m usually not as… socially awkward, you know?”

“I understand. Lots of people dislike doctor’s offices,” Richie smiles at him, drumming his fingers against the table. “So, I want to know about you. What do you do for work? School, anything? I didn’t even get to wine and dine you before we… you know.”

Eddie snorts, his dimples showing proudly on both sides of his grin. “Well, now’s your chance. Um, I go to NYU Law School, but I’m in my last year so I only have a few classes. When I’m not in class I work at a bakery, making treats and running the cash register. Also I have an internship at a firm on the lower east side, which takes up a lot of time.”

Richie can see him at a bakery, surrounded by pastries and sweets. Icing a cake, maybe, or piping cream into a pastry. 

“What kind of stuff do you like to do? I mean, assuming you ever have free time.”

Eddie seems to look him up and down, big brown eyes scanning the older man’s face. “Well, I like to read a lot. I particularly like Oscar Wilde. I was an english major in my first few years of college. I love classic literature.”

He does indeed look like a character Richie would find in a library, snuggled up in his sweater with a weathered copy of an old classic in his hands. 

“I’m a member of NYU’s LGBT student union as well,” he adds on afterwards. 

“Quite the busy man,” Richie comments, “do you ever get a break?”

“Of course I do,” Eddie’s smile is shy, his eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. “I just like being kept busy. If I’m in my head too much, then…”

“I understand,” Richie can’t help but reach out and pat the younger man’s outstretched hand.

_ You need to say it. Say it before anything else happens between you two.  _

“Listen, I… what happened the other night was extremely inappropriate.”

“Oh, I totally agree,” Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide and apologetic. “Yeah, no, that was… wrong on so many levels.”

_ Fuck. Don’t say it.  _

“Like having sex in an elevator,” Richie murmurs with a smirk, unable to help himself. 

Eddie stares at him for a moment. Then bursts into loud, uncontrollable giggles, earning a few looks from bystanders. “ _ Richie,”  _ he wheezes, “Jesus!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I couldn’t help it!” Richie throws his hands up in defense, only making Eddie laugh harder. 

“Good lord,” Eddie sighs, wiping his face. “I’m sorry. But you’re right. It was… not okay. It was irresponsible for me to try to do that.”

“I mean, I shouldn’t have encouraged it. We’re both to blame,” Richie says, suddenly wishing he’d ordered a coffee to sip on instead of having to fiddle with his hands like a moron. 

“Yeah. I just, I knew you were married and I-“

“Hey, what happened… happened. And it won’t happen again,” Richie feels like a jerk now, looking at Eddie’s disappointed face. 

And the worst part was that he doesn’t want that to be true. He wants Eddie, he wants to hear him moan and feel his soft skin and— 

“Richie?” Eddie waves his hand in front of his face. 

“Sorry,” he scrunches his eyes shut. “I just… lots to think about.”

“Mhm.”

Silence settles comfortably between them as Eddie takes another sip of his mocha, big doe eyes still examining Richie. 

“Maybe… Do you want to come over for dinner at my place tonight? I’m a pretty good cook, you know.”

Richie’s heart skips a beat. 

“I think Sam has plans for dinner tonight.”

“Oh, okay. Maybe sometime this weekend or—“

“But she can always save me some leftovers,” Richie saves himself, “I mean- yes. I’d… I’d love that, Eddie.”

The smile that spreads across Eddie’s face is enough to make any guilt Richie felt about his decision melt away. “Awesome,” he winks at him. “What time works for you?” 

“Um… 7:30? Is there a dress code?”

“Oh yes, it’s a black tie dinner. If you’re not wearing a sport coat I’ll have to kick you out,” Eddie grins, his bottom lip snagging between his teeth. 

_ He has nice teeth,  _ Richie notices. 

“Shucks,” Richie sighs dramatically, draping himself over the back of his chair. “Guess I can’t come then.” 

“Stop it, you,” Eddie whacks his shoulder, the touch feeling like electricity on Richie’s skin. “7:30 works for me.”

“Awesome. It’s a…”

_ It’s not a date, you fucking clown.  _

“It’s gonna be a party.”

Eddie grins bright enough to replace the sun at that. 


	2. Tell me how it tastes, tell me if it’s good— tell me dear, if you’d like seconds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s 5 pm when Eddie leaves Birch, parting ways with Richie at the crosswalk with an awkward handshake. 
> 
> The first chilly breezes are starting to blow through New York as Eddie makes his way to the subway station, his sweater blowing against his chest awkwardly. By the time he gets home he’ll have two hours to make dinner, pick the music, light candles, change clothes, and fluff every single pillow in the apartment. 
> 
> It’s not a date, dumbass. Stop stressing about that, he thinks to himself as he pops his earbuds in, Mitski filling his ears as he settles onto a hard plastic seat in the jam packed subway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANFJCKDKS i did it!!! just wanted to post this and be done with it tbh. thank you guys for all the love you’ve shown on tumblr, you guys are the sweetest! the chapter title is from “Something Bad Is Happening” from the musical Falsettos (ironically, the line is being sung to a doctor).

It’s 5 pm when Eddie leaves Birch, parting ways with Richie at the crosswalk with an awkward handshake. 

The first chilly breezes are starting to blow through New York as Eddie makes his way to the subway station, his sweater blowing against his chest awkwardly. By the time he gets home he’ll have two hours to make dinner, pick the music, light candles, change clothes, and fluff every single pillow in the apartment. 

_ It’s not a date, dumbass. Stop stressing about that,  _ he thinks to himself as he pops his earbuds in, Mitski filling his ears as he settles onto a hard plastic seat in the jam packed subway. 

But he can’t stop thinking about Richie as the train car rattles along; he’s so much more attractive than he remembered from their first interaction, all strong jawline and large hands and salt and pepper hair. He’s so…  _ masculine,  _ but not in the gross, toxic way. He’s  _ sexy,  _ at least to Eddie. 

_ And you’re a fucking homewrecker,  _ the little voice in the back of Eddie’s head nags, chattering over the sound of  _ Strawberry Blonde.  _

Guilt gnaws at his stomach. How can he think about something like that when he was just cooing at how cute his family was, not even an hour ago? 

He stops at the mini grocery store by his apartment to grab some cheese, wine and garlic bread. He’ll make  fettuccine alfredo for Richie— that’s always a hit when he has guests over, and it’s easy enough to make. Besides, who doesn’t love a bunch of fucking cheese and garlic? 

He looks away from his basket as he drops in a packet of condoms and a small bottle of lube. 

_ It’s not gonna happen, but just in case. It’s not going to happen though so there’s nothing to worry about. But just in case I’ll get them. Even though nothing is gonna happen.  _

“Got a hot date tonight, sir?” the cashier wiggles her eyebrows at him as she scans the items. Eddie just chuckles, refusing to make eye contact with her as he swipes his credit card. 

_ Sir. It still feels weird being called that.  _

Before he knows it, it’s 7:30 and he’s just drained the pasta when there’s knock on the door. 

_ Fuck. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.  _

He lights a few candles as fast as he can before swinging the door open, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest as he came face to face with—

“We meet again,” Richie grins, a bouquet of fresh smelling flowers in his hand. 

_ Oh, no.  _

“I brought you flowers,” he adds, holding them out to Eddie. 

“Hi,” Eddie grins, taking the flowers cautiously, “thank you for these. Come sit.”

Richie looks around his apartment as he enters, sitting on the couch. “You sure you’re a college student?” he sounds impressed, “this is big, in terms of New York.”

Eddie just chuckles, grabbing a vase from the cupboards and filling it with water. It’s a studio apartment, granted, but it’s a pretty nice one. High up with plenty of space and a little bathroom, and big windows with a pretty view of the Hudson. “These are nice,” he comments as he puts the bouquet into the vase, “where’d you get them?”

“Some guy was selling ‘em down by that Pret-A-Manger by here,” Richie explains, “Just thought it would be nice. It’s not like this is a date or anything.”

“Yeah, no,” Eddie laughs, setting the vase on his coffee table, “definitely not a date. Don’t worry about that. I’m almost finished with dinner, come sit at the table. Help yourself to some wine.”

Richie does so, cracking the bottle open and pouring some until his glass is full to the brim. “You’ve got taste,” he comments, examining the bottle. 

“It’s cheap,” Eddie replies, “Us law students call that the Elixir or finals. I swear, I wouldn’t have gotten through my midterms at all without it.”

Richie laughs, and Eddie can feel his eyes on him as he pours the sauce onto the pasta. “That smells amazing,” he comments, “what is it?”

“Fettuccine alfredo. One of the few things I can actually cook,” Eddie stoops down to take out the bread, “and some garlic bread. I can’t take credit for it, I just put it in the oven.”

“Well, I’m thankful either way,” Richie grins as Eddie heaps the pasta into two bowls. 

“I would have made something with a bit more protein, but I didn’t know if you’re a vegetarian or not,” Eddie sets a steaming bowl of pasta in front of Richie, moving to slice the bread. 

“Oh, I’m not a vegetarian. My family is actually methodist,” Richie deadpans. 

Eddie hates the giggle that comes out of his mouth— it’s light and shallow, like he’s trying to impress Richie or something. 

“Well… I propose a toast,” he says as he fills his glass, Richie looking up at him. “To us not being on a date.”

“Cheers.” 

It’s some damn good fettuccine alfredo, and Eddie pats himself on the back for that. 

“Oh my god,” Richie moans, mouth stuffed full of pasta, “Jesus, Eds, this is amazing.”

“Don’t call me Eds,” Eddie grins, pride swelling in his stomach as Richie stuffs his face with another bite. 

“My wife-“

“Oh my god, at least swallow first!”

Richie makes a big show of swallowing, making Eddie laugh harder. His whole face is hot now because  _ wow  _ who knew being funny was such a turn on—

“Sorry. My wife isn’t a great cook, but she tries her best. This is incredible,” he finishes. 

_ Oh. Right.  _

“Well, I’m glad you think so,” Eddie takes another sip of his wine. He’s gonna need to get a little drunk if Richie keeps talking about his wife. 

“Oh, you have a record player? Neat,” Richie turns around in his seat, examining the Victrola with its spinning Nat King Cole record on the needle. 

“You don’t have a very high attention span, do you?” Eddie simply replies, his chin resting against his hand. 

The evening passes in polite conversation, Eddie talking about law school and Richie telling stories about Liz that make him laugh so hard his stomach hurts. 

Eddie doesn’t miss how Richie looks at him from behind when he gets up to flip the record. 

He’s halfway through a story about a homeless man who serenaded him on the subway when Richie looks at his watch. “Oh, shit,” he says, standing quickly. “I’m so sorry, but I’ve gotta bolt.”

“It’s all good,” Eddie feels a pang of sadness in his stomach but he knows it’s just selfish to want him to say. Richie has a family to go home to and a high paying job to go to in the morning, and Eddie has… houseplants and a gig at a bakery. 

“Thank you for dinner. That was amazing,” he replies as he slides his blazer back on— and Eddie can’t help but notice the wide expanse of his chest, how it strains against his dress shirt as he puts the… 

“Yeah, of course. It’s always nice to have some company,” Eddie pats his shoulder, “we should do this again sometime. I’d love to meet Sam and Liz, I’m sure I could make some space for them.”

“Well, Sam doesn’t really like eating at other people’s houses,” Richie explains, looking slightly uncomfortable. 

_ Fuck.  _

“I get it. Goodnight, Richie,” he opens the door for him, offering him one more smile. 

“Goodnight,” the older man replies, doing a two finger salute before shutting the door behind him. 

The apartment feels stuffy and empty without Richie being there. Eddie hates sleeping alone— he’s been doing it for basically eight years, but… he doesn’t want to tonight. He wants Richie, he wants his warmth and his smile and his laugh. 

But he knows he can’t have that. 

He takes the record off the needle, sliding it into the sleeve and putting it back onto his shelf.  _ Since when do I listen to Nat King Cole? It’s always been too romantic for me.  _

Richie’s wine glass is unfinished. He drinks the rest of it in one swig, faintly tasting mint chapstick on the rim, before finishing his own. 

He puts the dishes in the sink, telling himself he’ll do them later. Frankly he just wants to play some sad music and throw himself a pity party about the married man he likes—

There’s another knock on the door. 

Eddie opens it to Richie. 

“I lied. I can’t do this,” is all Richie says before shutting the door and pulling Eddie into a fierce kiss, every bone in Eddie’s body melting under his touch. 

He kisses back, hot and messy and passionate. 

Eddie’s breath has left his lips, sliding into the doctor’s lungs. Richie’s lips are soft, a stark contrast to the 5 o’ clock scruff scratching against Eddie’s cheeks, and Eddie feels like he’s died and gone to heaven—

“I’m sorry,” Richie murmurs, his large hand cupping Eddie’s jaw, “I shouldn’t do this, I...“

Eddie can’t help but kiss him again, wanting so desperately to shut him up but more so to feel him again, relishing in the taste of him, of  _ Dr. Fucking Tozier.  _

“I want you,” he replies, lips ghosting over his, “Please,  _ doctor.” _

Richie moans, low and soft against Eddie’s lips and  _ fuck  _ Eddie can feel that familiar heat growing in his stomach. They’re on the bed in an instant and suddenly Eddie’s thankful for his tiny studio apartment because otherwise they’d have to have an awkward walk there, but obviously that’s not what’s on his mind just then because Richie’s on top of him, and oh god…

“I- I bought condoms,” he manages, his sweater already halfway down his arms, “a-and lube.”

“Good boy,” Richie grunts, kissing him hard again and grinding his hips down. The noise that comes from Eddie’s throat is absolutely sinful, high pitched and breathy, and he knows he looks ridiculous when he unravels so easily but Richie just does something to him that makes him feel  _ alive…  _

“I wanna eat you out,” he growls against Eddie’s ear before sitting up to slide his jacket off. Eddie looks up at him, the least tidied up he’s ever seen him— his glasses are slipping down his nose and his shirt is wrinkled from Eddie grabbing at him. The flecks of silver in his hair seem to glint in the candlelight, and he looks  _ hungry,  _ as if he’s caught Eddie like an animal of prey and is getting ready to eat him alive. 

“Wanna make you cum, over and over again.”

Eddie can’t help the gasp that falls from his lips as Richie unbuttons his shirt, looking up at the doctor with hooded eyes. He’s sure he’s soaked through his boxers by now, hips wriggling in protest of his jeans. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Richie breathes as he leans back down to kiss Eddie, his lips leaving a gentle trail down his cheek to the pale column of his neck. 

“Let me-“ Eddie slides his cardigan off and throws it hastily aside, “Hold on. I— sorry, I’m not wearing my  binder.”

Richie sits back on his thighs, hips still flush against Eddie’s. “We don’t have to do anything you're not comfortable with,” he says, some of the feral sexuality in his eyes gone. Eddie feels his heart melt as he peels his t-shirt off, and for the first time in ages he doesn’t feel suffocated or alienated without it. 

“You’re so handsome, Eddie.”

He blushes hard, watching as Richie’s hands move to pop the top button of his jeans. “Can I…?”

“Yes,” Eddie breathes, falling back against the pillows. Richie lifts himself up off of him and slides his jeans down his legs for him, hands running indulgently over his thighs. 

“So beautiful. Such a beautiful boy,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to his hip bone. And for the first time in ages Eddie  _ wants  _ to be touched, wants to let Richie spread his thighs and do sinful things to him. 

Richie slides his boxers down his legs next, and his whole lower region is throbbing with heat, his cunt slick and pulsing without even being touched. “ _ Richie,”  _ it feels like a prayer murmured from his lips, Richie pressing gentle kisses against the insides of his thighs. 

“You’re perfect,” is all Richie says, spreading Eddie’s folds open with his fingers like he did at that first exam, the one where he made Eddie feel like his whole body was on fire. 

“ _ Fuck,”  _ Eddie gasps as Richie’s tongue dives into his cunt, his fingers twisting into the doctor’s curls. Richie’s tongue is warm and wet, lighting up every nerve in his body as he teases at his cock. 

He hears a soft grunt from underneath him, but he can’t exactly focus on that as Richie’s tongue fucks him in all the right places. “Shit,” he swears under his breath, his brain fogged. He can’t even remember the last time someone touched him like this, much less the last time he actually enjoyed it. “Oh, Richie…”

“Shh,” Richie hushes against his thigh, his fingers slowly replacing his tongue as he peppers kisses along the inside of Eddie’s leg. His free hand hooks under Eddie’s knee, bending it up and spreading his legs, and Eddie is almost embarrassed at how malleable he’s let himself become, but it feels too good for him to even try to resist. 

“‘m sensitive,” Eddie mumbles into his pillow, “oOH-!”

Richie chuckles against him as he sucks on his cock, his tongue doing absolutely  _ sinful  _ things to Eddie. “Fuck!”

“You’re so loud when you’re horny,” Richie grins, licking a long stripe up Eddie’s folds and effectively making Eddie’s head hit the pillow even harder. “I wonder how fast I can make you cum, darling.”

“Oh my  _ god,”  _ Eddie sounds pathetic, his voice strained and pitchy as he bucks against Richie’s face. “Baby-“

“Shh,” the buzz of Richie’s lips on his dick make him shiver, his legs bending further as Richie’s tongue explores every fold and crevice of his cunt. 

“mm.. not gonna last,” he whines, and he knows it’s true. It’s been so long since someone else made him cum, his whole body is sensitive and that burning heat is building in his stomach. 

“Don’t,” Richie replies, pulling the hood of his cock up with his thumb and sucking hard. 

That’s all it takes for Eddie to throw his head back and almost scream, the heat leaving his stomach and spreading through his whole body. 

“Fuck!” he gasps, his chest heaving as his legs shake hard. 

He looks down, and Richie looks extremely pleased with himself. 

“Hi,” he pants, his fingers still tangled in his hair. 

“You taste amazing,” he grins, pressing a kiss to his belly button. Eddie hates how his stomach erupts in butterflies as Richie kisses up his torso, his lips leaving searing marks against his skin. Eventually he finds Eddie’s lips, and he knows he should be disgusted by the taste of himself on Richie but it’s… oddly hot. 

“Baby,” he whispers, Richie’s body warm against his. He faintly registers the sound of Richie sliding his pants off, throwing them somewhere on the pile of clothes on the floor. 

“I love it when you call me that,” he replies, pressing a deeper kiss to his lips. Eddie decides internally that he would be very happy kissing Richie forever, but he can feel his dick poking against his thigh and hell, shouldn’t he return the favor? 

“Condoms are in my bedside drawer,” he murmurs, Richie’s weight coming off of him as he hears him searching through the drawer. 

“Oh shit, what’s this?” Eddie can hear the smirk in his voice. The older man turns back to him with a condom between his teeth and his vibrator in his hand, Eddie’s cheeks going pink at the sight. 

“It- it’s nothing,” he lies, but he knows it’s too late. Richie flicks the  _ on  _ switch, trailing it down his stomach. The buzz makes him shiver as it edges towards his cunt, and Richie has a look on his face that tells Eddie he’s up to absolutely no good. “Richie…”

“God, I wanna fuck you,” the doctor muses, tearing the condom open with his teeth. 

“You look like a d-douchebag when you do that,” Eddie replies shakily, the vibrator resting on his navel. Richie just chuckles and sets the vibrator aside, rolling the condom onto his dick. Eddie notices for the first time that he’s  _ big—  _ he’s long  _ and  _ thick, with full, heavy balls. He didn’t expect much else though; Richie has big dick energy anyways. 

“Like what you see?” Richie chuckles, pouring some lube onto himself. 

“Yeah,” Eddie manages, gasping as the older man smears lube over his entrance. 

“Makes it easier,” Richie explains before hoisting himself over his lover. Their faces are inches apart, and Eddie could almost get lost in the brown of Richie’s eyes; they’re full of adoration, and Eddie can feel his heart melting in his chest as—

“Fuck!” he gasps as Richie pushes the tip into him, his legs folding up underneath him. He’s  _ huge,  _ and the stretch burns in a way that he never knew could be pleasurable. “Is that just—“

“Fuck,” Richie groans, his head dropping between Eddie’s neck and shoulder. “God, you’re so fucking tight.”

He pushes another inch into Eddie, earning a pained moan from underneath him. “Are you- are you a virgin, sweetheart?”

Eddie nods frantically, clenching around Richie. “I’ve never been… fucked. Like this.”

“Cute. I  _ love  _ virgin pussy,” Richie growls into his ear, and Eddie already feels close to another orgasm just from his words. “Hold onto me, sweet thing.”

Eddie’s arms wrap around Richie’s broad shoulders, the doctor pressing kisses up his Adam's apple until he's completely sheathed inside him. 

“It hurts,” Eddie whimpers, only to find Richie’s thumb teasing at his lips. In an instant he sucks it into his mouth as if it’s second nature, sucking on it as if it’s a lollipop. 

“Keep sucking it, focus on that,” Richie coos, his hips slowly starting to move. It hurts like hell, and Eddie loves it; he keens into the side of Richie’s neck, savoring the pain as Richie pushes every inch of himself into his cunt. 

“Fuck me hard,” Eddie manages, “I want it.”

“Shit, you sure?” 

Eddie nods against his skin. 

“Since you asked so nicely…”

In an instant Richie’s hips are slamming into Eddie, the brunet shrieking as waves of pain and pleasure roll through his body. 

“Shh,” Richie pushes his thumb deeper into Eddie’s mouth, “don’t want the neighbors to hear, do you?” 

Tears begin to trickle into the sweat on Richie’s shoulder, Eddie’s whines muffled as Richie pounds into him. It burns and sears, but his whole body is alive as the tip of his cock slams his g-spot over and over; Richie is still murmuring praise, but the younger only  half hears it as he takes his dick. 

“You’re so much tighter than my wife,” Richie growls, one hand coming to Eddie’s hair. “Much less bitchy, too.”

Eddie barely registers the comment as Richie yanks his hair hard, earning a loud gasp from him. 

“ _ Fuck  _ yes,” Eddie manages, and he knows he looks like a slut with tears rolling down his face and his hair all mussed up, but there’s a feral kind of desire burning in his stomach and he can’t help but whimper under Richie’s hands. 

“You know what you’ll  _ really  _ like?” Richie grunts, pulling back and looking down at Eddie. Before he can reply he’s grabbed the vibrator from the nightstand and flicked it on, pressing it to Eddie’s cock. 

That’s all it takes for Eddie to scream as another orgasm hits him, hot cum squirting all over Richie. 

“Oh my  _ god,”  _ he pants, his lover still ruthlessly fucking into him. 

“Remember when I said I wanted to make you cum over and over again?” Richie grins, steadying himself with a hand on Eddie’s stomach. The vibrator is still pressed to his dick, and it hurts in an absolutely fucking delicious way. 

“You make me feel so good,” Eddie can barely maintain eye contact, his legs twitching at the overstimulation. 

“I know, darling,” Richie pushes his glasses onto his forehead, sounding a little less composed than he had before. 

“I need- need to-“ Eddie can’t even get sentences out, cutting himself off with filthy moans and whimpers. “Richie…”l

“You’re so loud,” Richie gasps, his thrusts becoming more erratic by the second. Eddie can feel the too familiar heat building in his stomach again, growing more and more painful with each sloppy thrust into him.

“I’m gonna- again-“ he whines, fingernails digging into Richie’s shoulders. “Rich-“

He clenches hard as another orgasm hits him square in the stomach, every nerve in his body lighting up. He hears a loud grunt from Richie at the same time, his hips slowing to a stop until he’s buried deep inside Eddie. 

“Did you just…”

Richie nods, dropping his head down to press a surprisingly gentle kiss to Eddie’s lips. Eddie can’t help but kiss back, his hand finding their way to Richie’s dark curls. In an instant Richie has him up and pulled into his lap, kissing him fiercely enough to turn Eddie into a putty under his hands. 

“You’re perfect,” he breathes against his skin, arms wrapped around Eddie’s slender waist. “I-“

“Holy  _ shit,”  _ Eddie breathes, falling back against the pillows. Richie chuckles and pulls out, falling back with him and pulling the covers up to his chest. 

“That was amazing. Almost as amazing as that pasta you made,” he replies, earning a gentle smack on the arm from Eddie. He flicks the condom towards the trash can, hitting the side of it. 

“Shut up,” the jab has no real bite behind it, and Richie snuggles up to Eddie without a second thought. 

“You’re so good,” he whispers against him, pressing kisses all the way up his shoulder. It’s a sweet gesture— but Eddie feels that familiar guilt settle in his stomach at that, weighing him down like rocks in his pockets. 

“Shouldn’t you… go?” he asks softly. Richie chuckles against his skin, “I mean I don’t want to rush you out, but, you know.”

“She’s probably asleep,” he murmurs, “but, uh… you’re right. And we probably shouldn’t do this again.”

“...yeah,” Eddie concedes, unable to stop himself from carding his fingers through Richie’s tousled curls. “Someone is gonna get hurt if we keep this up.”

“No hard feelings though, right?” Richie asks, sitting up and grabbing his shirt from the floor. “I mean, it’s unprofessional for me to sleep with a patient, and… you know.”

“No hard feelings,” Eddie lies, laying back in bed. He doesn’t want to watch Richie get dressed; it would hurt too much. 

“Sorry to rush out on you,”  _ well shit, he at least sounds guilty,  _ “But you know how it is.”

Eddie heard the rustle of him getting out of the bed and pulling his pants back on. “For what it’s worth, I enjoyed it.”

“I think you should go now,” Eddie murmurs, refusing to even look in Richie’s direction. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” the clink of a belt buckle, “I wish it were different.”

_ If you really did, you would do something about it.  _

“‘s okay,” Eddie replies, listening to the scuff of Richie’s  dress shoes. 

He hears Richie’s footsteps come to the other side of the bed, and feels his hand pet his hair. “I wanna see you soon,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Goodbye, Eddie.”

“Bye,” Eddie mumbles, feeling tears trickle down his cheeks as Richie’s footsteps fade away to the door.

The tears turn into sobs when the door shuts, and they don’t stop until his alarm clock goes off the next morning. 

___

Eddie knows he seems off that morning, because as soon as he steps into the campus coffee shop to meet up with Mike and Bill, they’re immediately giving him a funny look. 

“What?”

“I just watched you order a mocha with four shots of espresso,” Mike says, raising an eyebrow over his reading glasses. 

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” Eddie huffs, grabbing his textbook from his backpack. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Says the boy who religiously gets 8 hours of sleep every night,” Bill replies, highlighting something in his notes. “Did something happen?”

“No! Since when are you guys the fucking  _ FBI _ ?” Eddie snaps, and he knows he’s being harsh but it’s not their fucking business, is it? 

“Jesus, man,” Mike shakes his head at him, and Eddie does feel a little bit guilty. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” 

“If you wanna tell us what’s going on…” Bill starts cautiously. 

“No, it’s okay,” Eddie sighs, “just… never mind.”

They study in silence for a while, but Eddie can’t focus on anything. His brain is on an endless loop of  _ Richie Richie Richie—  _ he can still feel his hands all over his body, hear his low voice growling in his ear, smell his expensive cologne all over him. It’s in times like these he’s glad he doesn’t have a real dick because if he did he’d be hard now, even though he was sad about it. Like a sad-horny boner. 

“Eddie,” Mike waves his hand in his face, “you haven’t moved for 20 minutes.” 

“Fuck!” Eddie hisses, slamming his head against the textbook.

“Woah, bud,” Bill moves to rub his back, “you alright?”

“I’m a horrible fucking person,” Eddie groans, “I fucked up bad.”

When he looks back up, Bill and Mike are staring at him expectantly. 

“Have you ever done something that you  _ know  _ is wrong? And you end up getting hurt because you just don’t know when to stop?” 

They both nod. 

“And like, you don’t know why you expected anything else but-“

“Just tell us what happened, Eddie.”

“I slept with a married man.”

Bill gasps, and Mike puts a hand over his mouth. 

“He’s my gynecologist, too.”

“ _ Eddie!”  _ Bill gasps again, Mike almost spitting out his coffee. 

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you!” Eddie huffs, crossing his arms defensively. “God, you two are so dramatic.”

“What the  _ fuck,  _ Eddie?” Mike asks, shutting his textbook. 

“It was dumb, I know!” Eddie sighs, the two nodding. 

“ _ Really  _ dumb. He could lose his job,” Bill points out, “Even if he wasn’t your pussy doctor, he’s fucking  _ married?” _

“Ouch. Salt on an open wound, Bill,” Eddie takes a sip of his mocha, his hands shaking. 

“At least tell me he doesn’t have kids,” Mike peers over his coffee at Eddie, eyebrows raised. Eddie’s face flames with guilt as he nods slowly, the two gasping again. 

“Fuck! I know!” Eddie groans, “and that’s not even the worst part!”

“He’s a chaser?” Mike asks, “if he’s a chaser I’ll beat his ass, I swear to god-“

“No,” Eddie sighs, “I… I really like him. Like, a lot.”

“Oh, Eddie,” Bill’s eyes soften, and he reaches over to pat his hand gently. “How long have you known him for?”

“A little over a week,” Eddie replies miserably, dropping his face into his hands. “And y’know, I know it was just a hookup for him, but…” 

“I know,” Mike sighs, closing his textbook. 

“I mean, I’m  _ so  _ dumb. He gave me a pelvic exam, then we had phone sex, then he wined and dined me and we had real sex.”

“I get it. You haven’t been in a serious relationship in a while,” Mike says, “but, you’ve gotta let go. He’s…”

“I know what he is,” Eddie grumbles into his palms, “you don’t need to remind me.”

Mike winces, taking another sip of his coffee. 

“Listen, I have a great idea,” Bill breaks the silence, “there’s a party happening at Kappa Beta Phi this weekend, and I think you should come. They’re super gay-friendly, and there will be plenty of hunks to go around for all three of us.” 

Eddie chuckles, lifting his face up. “I don’t know,” he replies, “shouldn’t we be studying over the weekend?”

“It’s our last year of college, man,” Bill protests, “you only have like one more class to take before you’re officially a sexy lawyer man. Live a little, yeah?”

“Okay, I don’t want a rebound fuck. Let’s get that straight,” Eddie takes another sip of his coffee, “I don’t want… he knew what he was doing, okay? I felt good sleeping with him. I felt… safe.”

“Just because he specializes in vaginas doesn’t mean he’s the only man who will ever make you cum,” Mike says, Eddie raising his eyebrows. 

“You’d be surprised how few cis men know where the clit is.” 

Bill snorts into his coffee, Mike rolling his eyes. “Oh, you’re both gay. Don’t act like you know.” 

“I’m bisexual, and I  _ do  _ know,” Bill retorts, Eddie rolling his eyes. “My point is… I’m an idiot. And if I know how to make a… vagina owner feel good, I’m sure there are other cis guys who do too.”

“ _ Vagina owner,”  _ Mike whispers, scandalized enough to make Eddie snort. 

“As a responsible vagina owner, I make sure to get my cooch insured with Geico in 15 minutes or less,” Eddie giggles, effectively making Mike spit out his coffee. “ _ Nationwide is on your side.” _

“You should totally come with us!” Bill laughs, patting Eddie’s hand. “It’s gonna be fun, I promise. You’ll take your mind off this married dude and get super fucking drunk, right?”

“Will you stop bugging me about it and let me study if I say yes?”

They both nod. 

“Will you  _ only  _ stop bugging me about it if I say yes?”

They nod again. 

“Ugh, fine. You’re buying my drinks.”

___

It’s Saturday night, and Sam is out at her book club, leaving Liz and Richie to Sofia the First and spaghetti with red sauce. 

“Daddy?” Liz asks, mouth full of pasta as she leans against his arm. 

“Finish chewing, honey,” Richie reminds her gently, ruffling her curls. His phone sits in his back pocket, ringer and vibrator off. She scrunches her nose at him before making a big show of swallowing, even adding a dramatic  _ Mmmm!  _ for effect. “Good job, kiddo. What’s up?” 

“Why were you home so late last night? Mommy was really sad,” she continues. 

_ Fuck.  _

“Well, uh,” Richie stalls, guilt settling like a dead weight in his stomach, “Daddy uh, he went to a friend’s house for dinner. A dinner party, like the ones mommy and I have.” 

She nods, seeming to consider this. “And, well, daddy lost track of time and just came back a little later than I meant to. Nothing bad happened. Were you worried, kid?”

“No,” she says casually, “I didn’t care. Mommy let me have dino nuggets for dinner.”

Richie nods, accepting defeat. 

“She was upset, though.”

_ And she had every right to be.  _

Eddie’s face flashes through his mind, sweaty and mid-orgasm. 

_ Stop it.  _

“Well, sometimes daddy messes up, and Mommy and Daddy have disagreements about things,” Richie sighs, “but that’s okay, because we always work it out.”

Eddie's soft skin under his fingertips, the way his curls shone in the candlelight. 

“Huh. Okay,” Liz nods, going back to raptly watching Sofia sing with a personified dragon of some sort. And though Richie would normally be just as invested in the song, his mind is wandering yet again as he absentmindedly eats his pasta. 

Eddie’s probably studying right now, nestled up in his little studio with his notes spread out around him, a glass of that delicious wine by his side as Frank Sinatra crackles from his record player. Richie can see him in his mind’s eye, snuggled up in an NYU sweatshirt as he intently examines a textbook, and he feels his heart swell a bit. 

_ Stop it, you immature fuck.  _

He’d already let himself go too far— he’d crossed that line the minute he didn’t hit the  _ end call  _ button when he realized Eddie had been masturbating to him. If anyone found out he’d be in deep shit; with the clinic, with his wife, with Eddie. 

But he can’t stop thinking about the younger man, day and night. His mind is a constant loop of Eddie’s laugh, his eyes, his hair, his skin, his smile, his body. 

He’s in so, so deep. 

Before he knows it Liz has dozed off against his shoulder, long lashes resting against her cheeks. Richie can’t help but stare at her for a moment, pride filling his chest to a point where it began to hurt. 

“Goodnight, princess,” he whispers as he mutes the TV, picking her up and cradling her until he can place her gently into her bed. He tucks her in gently, smoothing her curls down and kissing her forehead tenderly. He looks at her for a moment more— people always told him she was his spitting image, and he saw it in her curls and the freckles splattered across her nose. 

_ Hold it together for her. It’s all for her, Richie.  _

He flops back onto the couch, pulling his phone out. Sam should be home soon- he’d heat up some leftovers for her while she complained about the ‘bitches’ in her book club. 

**_little one: missed calls (3)_ **

He frowns, unlocking his phone. Eddie had agreed that they weren’t going to take it any further, why would he be calling him so many times? 

_ Don’t call back. Don’t call back. It’s not worth it, don’t— _

His finger hits the  _ return call  _ button before he can stop himself. 

“Hi,” Eddie slurs over the thrum of a crowd, loud bass pumping through the speakers. He giggles and shouts something inaudible, making Richie cringe and hold the phone away from his ear. “Richie, baby, why didn’t you return my  _ calls?” _

“Hi, Eddie,” Richie sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose. He can practically smell the alcohol through the phone, much to his surprise— Eddie never really struck him as much of a partier. “Where are you?”

“Kappa Beta Phi,” Eddie replies louder than necessary, “I’m at this  _ raging  _ party, dude.” 

“You shouldn’t be calling this late,” Richie replies simply, sinking back into the couch cushions. “What do you need?” 

“I need  _ you,”  _ he whines, a weight dropping in Richie’s stomach at the words. “I miss you. Miss your dick.”

“You know what we agreed on,” Richie says gently, as Eddie yells at someone across the room. “How much have you had to drink?”

“A  _ lot,”  _ Eddie emphasizes, and Richie can almost see him gesturing with his hands. “I want you, baby. You’re so  _ hot,  _ you’re such a fucking DILF.”

Richie hates how his body warms at that, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “We talked about this, darling,” he says softly into the phone, “someone’s going to get hurt.”

“What happened to  _ what she doesn’t know won’t kill her?”  _ Eddie protests, “god, you need to make up your fucking mind.”

Richie’s heart seizes at the hurt in his voice, imagining him with a drunken pout on his face. 

“It was a one time thing, Eddie,” Richie sighs, running a hand through his curls. “I have a wife and a kid, and… you’re getting drunk in a frat house.”

The line goes silent for a moment, save for the thump of EDM on Eddie's side of the call. 

“It never should have happened, okay? You know that. It was unprofessional and just… wrong.”

“I get it. I’m some trashy sorority girl in your eyes, and you’re some hot shot doctor,” Eddie slurs. 

“What? No! No, you just… it never should have happened.”

Eddie blows a raspberry into the receiver, huffing like a child afterwards. “Whatever,” he sniffs, pausing to do what Richie can only assume is taking a shot, “You know what, Richie? I’m gonna go get dick from someone else. A nice, big dick like yours. I don’t need you. Who do you think you are?” 

“Have fun,” Richie replies simply, not missing the wobble in Eddie’s voice. 

“You’re so stuck up. I’m gonna do it unprotected just to make you mad,” Eddie slurs, “fuck you and your stupidly big dick.”

“...Alright,” Richie sighs, “goodnight, Eddie. Be safe.”

“Go to hell, you pretentious cunt doctor.”

The call was only two minutes long, but it felt like it had lasted centuries.

___

Eddie doesn’t know the man he’s making out with. He tastes like beer and weed, his fingers hooked into the belt loops of Eddie’s shorts. He thanks Bill internally for letting him wear his sluttiest outfit: a baby pink crop top and too short jean shorts, aka the one that says  _ I’m horny and want a dick in my mouth.  _

Eddie still didn’t really want a rebound fuck, at least that’s what he was telling himself. But it didn’t hurt to have his mind taken off Richie. 

“Hey, uh,” he manages against the man’s mouth, hand against the back of his neck, “I’m like… I have a pussy.”

“Like, a transgendered?”

“Yeah.”

“Sick.”

Coming out to people is a lot easier when you’re both drunk. 

He doesn’t recognize the song blasting from the speakers, and faintly realizes that getting fucked to EDM is definitely not the sexiest thing on earth, but he just wants to stop thinking about  _ him.  _ The bathroom wall is grimy and definitely crawling with germs, but Eddie allows himself to be pushed against it as the man’s hands reach for the button on his shorts. The whole bathroom feels like it’s steaming up as they go at each other, a tangle of hands and various limbs all over the place. 

“Fuck me,” Eddie slurs, their hips grinding together, “oh my god…”

His shorts are down his legs before he can register what’s happening, the man pulling away briefly to unbuckle his pants. “You got a rubber?” he asks, unzipping his fly but not pulling his pants down. 

“No,” Eddie giggles, “we don’t need one.”

The man shrugs as he lifts Eddie’s leg up, sliding two warm fingers into him and earning a breathless moan against his neck. “Yeah, you like that?” he asks, Eddie giggling underneath him. 

“Come on,” Eddie urges, spreading his legs wider for the man, “fuck me.”

He faintly notices the man has dark curls and glasses. He’s not sure if he picked him intentionally or not. He’s younger than Richie though, leaner too. 

It’s not a very graceful process, but pretty soon the man is sheathed all the way inside him. It’s dry and uncomfortable, and a part of Eddie yearns for Richie’s touch instead. 

“Yeah,” he encourages as the man thrusts sloppily into Eddie’s hips, “Oh, yes, baby!” 

He reaches down to rub his own dick, hoping to make it at least somewhat pleasurable for himself. The man doesn’t seem to notice; his thrusts are messy and erratic as he fucks into Eddie, groaning against his neck. “Say my name,” the man huffs out, despite having never introduced himself. 

“ _ Doctor,”  _ Eddie moans before he can stop himself, feeling himself get wetter at the implication, “oh, doctor, please…” 

His eyes flutter shut and it’s Richie holding his waist, fucking into him fast and deep. He can’t smell his cologne or feel his broad shoulders, but he’s lost in the idea of  _ Richie, Richie, Richie.  _

“Yeah, baby,” the guy mumbles, blunt fingernails digging into Eddie’s thigh. His voice is deep, nothing like the husky tenor of his favorite doctor, and he faintly wishes he would just  _ shut up  _ as he hits his g-spot, earning a desperate moan from the smaller of the two. 

“ _ Richie,”  _ he whines, the man pressing kisses down the slender column of his neck. “Richie, darling, I need you-  _ fuck!” _

His fingers speed up on his cock as the man slams into him, the sound of their hips filthy and echoing across the empty bathroom. “Oh,  _ Richie,”  _ he gasps, his back slick against the wall tiles. 

“You gonna cum?” The guy has made no effort to make this pleasurable for Eddie, it’s all been his own work, but he nods anyways, panting into his neck. 

“Yeah, fuck,” he breathes, chest heaving. It’s barely even been five minutes, but being drunk does something strange to the libido and he knows the guy is close too. “Pull out- pull out.”

In an instant he’s pulled out and is dragging the head of his cock between Eddie’s pink folds, beads of precum sliding down Eddie’s legs. 

It’s not something Richie would do, and he briefly notices the guy has abs— Richie has a bit of a soft tummy that Eddie loves, and frankly prefers. 

He feels a single tear slide down his cheek as heat builds in his stomach, his thighs trembling. 

“Cum for me, Lucy,” the guy groans, Eddie not registering the nickname at all as more tears spill down his face. “Come on, baby.”

His fingers move faster until he cums, melting against the tiles as waves of pleasure shake him to his core. His face is wet with tears as the guy spurts his seed all over his thighs, dripping down his legs and onto his shoes. 

He covers his mouth as a sob forces its way out of him. The guy has already pulled away, and he feels cold as he grabs a paper towel and wipes down his legs for him. 

“You okay?” he asks, looking up at him. Eddie nods, sniffling and wiping at his eyes frantically. He looks ridiculous, and the alcohol is already starting to wear off which just makes everything feel so much… worse. 

“My name’s Chad, by the way,” the guy nods, “good luck with this Richie guy.”

“Thanks,” Eddie sniffs, buttoning his shorts back up. “Good luck with Lucy.”

He fixes his hair in the bathroom mirror, wiping his tears away frantically. That was the second time he’d had sex with someone, and he’d been the one to initiate it—  _ what is happening to me?  _ he wonders faintly,  _ it’s like I’m becoming some sort of sex maniac.  _

He finds Bill and Mike in the crowd, dancing drunkenly, and a few drinks and a vomit session later they’re on their way back to Mike’s apartment. 

Eddie falls asleep on the couch, thinking of Richie as he drifts off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was... a mess. I have an idea for where I want to go with this story but I haven’t decided if that’s officially what I’m gonna do yet ;) come vibe with me on tumblr: @darlingdenbrough

**Author's Note:**

> There’s gonna be another chapter coming hopefully soon. Come hang out and chat with me on tumblr— @darlingdenbrough :)


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